


Congratulations

by TheFeanarion



Series: Stars always come in sets of four [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: AU, Equestrian, Hand Jobs, Horses, M/M, Oral Sex, Slight Age Difference, Voyeurism, accidental PWP, eventing, improper use of bailing twine, improper use of bits, plot went bye bye, sorry mom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-04-29
Packaged: 2018-06-05 04:44:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6689740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFeanarion/pseuds/TheFeanarion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fingon is in a congratulatory mood.<br/>Or wherein Fingon and Maedhros misuse a bit and some bailing twine.</p><p> The first of an Eventer!AU series!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Congratulations

**Author's Note:**

> I swear on the Precious that this was going to have some more plot! 
> 
> For more info about the sport of Eventing you can go here: http://www.discovereventing.com/

The air was rather balmy for mid-February and the sun shone brightly from an unclouded sky. The sounds of much activity surrounded him. Hundreds of trailers and vans were parked in the field along with the hundreds more accompanying horses, grooms and riders. The scents of refuse and a multitude of cleaning products would have been overwhelming if he wasn't used to it. He was in central Florida at the height of the winter season, so what was one to expect? 

He skipped along the western side of the field, making his way unhurriedly to the grouping of tent barns which were placed there. His loose, navy blue polo whipping out behind him and his curly black hair with sun-bleached highlights bobbing along with him as he sought for the scarlet bedecked stalls of his cousins. 

Findekáno was elated. This morning he had run his cross country course aboard his grey gelding, "Dor-Lomin", finishing fifth in his third Intermediate level event. He almost squealed with excitement as he now felt more than ready to tackle the CIC2** course at Red Hills in Tallahassee next month. 

He had had a difficult time getting to where he was now, between being crushed in a fall three years ago when he was fourteen ("Gothmog" had been uncle Fëanáro's four-star horse, but after throwing his rider into a tailgater's grill, had been presumably retrained by Makalaure). And now trying to get used to a new horse with whom he only just now seemed to be able to communicate with.

It was his hope to qualify for the North American Junior and Young Riders Championship (a continental championship for equestrians age fourteen to twenty one), as a young rider this time. Last year he and Dor-Lomin had gone in the junior division but due to a miscommunication had had a refusal on cross country and several jumps down in stadium, leading to a rather disappointing finish. Luckily, this was his last year as a junior and was already qualified for that in the event that he couldn't go as a young rider. 

Soon spotting the row of matching red stall guards, Findekáno hurried his steps and locating the tack stall at the end of the row and hearing someone humming off key, sauntered over.

Maitimo had been having a busy weekend. Between running his own horse "Himring" in the first Advanced division of the year and helping his father with the coaching of his younger brothers, he was also expected to play groom, as was every member of his family during shows. Unfortunately, it always felt like there were more horses than family members.

He was now enjoying the peace and quiet that came with re-rolling leg wraps and cleaning tack. Maitimo had learned, as had most young people, that you were generally exempt from getting yelled at while taking care of those two things.

And so Findekáno pushed the red drapes aside letting them fall back into place behind him, to see Maitimo, wearing blue jeans, Dubbary boots and a long sleeve, white, skin-tight sunshirt. Standing in all his glory in the center of the twelve foot by twelve foot space, arms up-stretched and holding a sponge that he used to vigorously scrub at the bridles which huge from a four-pronged hook. 

Findekáno whistled appreciatively as he beheld the sight before his eyes.

"You know, I think that there's a rule somewhere against you wearing something that tight in public, Maitimo."

Maitimo grinned at the compliment.

"The shirt's a spare of Makalaure's. Himring decided that he needed to rub his snout up the outside of the sleeve on mine and I didn't bring any extras. Should I take it off?"

"No, I quite like it. Besides, I came to congratulate you on being selected for that grant. Have you decided on who you want to have grooming for you while you're in England?"

Maitimo looked pensive.

"I was probably just going to take Curvo. Everyone else who's even partially responsible is going to Young Riders. You don't feel bad do you?"

"I won't deny that I would love to go with you but yes, I have a good chance of getting on the two star team this year." 

Findekáno was rather downcast at being left behind but he was still very proud of Maitimo. It wasn't every day that one got to go overseas for not one, but two shows.

"Will anyone be coming back here soon?" Findekáno said, brightening up considerably.

"No, they shouldn't be. Tyelkormo and Carnister are probably napping in the camper and Makalaure was helping father coach Curvo and the Ambarussa this afternoon, they shouldn't be back for another hour." 

Maitimo appeared to be finishing up with the last bridle and was now figure eighting it (wrapping the straps around to hold it together neatly), and Findekáno decided to carry on with his congratulations. 

Maitimo was reaching over to put the bridle on its assigned hook when Findekáno slid in front of him, standing on his toes and wrapping his arms around Maitimo's shoulders, giving him a gentle kiss, right on the lips. At this Maitimo placed his hands on either side of Findekáno's small waist and hungrily kissed him back, walking backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of a tack trunk. Maitimo then sat down, pulling Findekáno with him until his smaller cousin was sitting astride his lap, kisses growing more heated.

Having mapped out Maitimo's mouth to his hearts content, Findekáno pulled away, to a pleading whine from Maitimo, and began to nuzzle around the red-head's collar. Finding a spot that would be rather inconspicuous, he then began to suck on the skin just below Maitimo's collarbone biting down every now and then as Maitimo started to moan softly. 

"I-if anyone sees that..."

"You'll just need to be careful." Findekáno pronounced between sucks, finishing with a nip that made Maitimo gasp and roll his hips to rub up against Findekáno's.

Pleased with the bruise that was beginning to form, Findekáno slid down and out of Maitimo's grasp, eventually coming to kneel before him. Findekáno then started undoing Maitimo's belt and when that was done, his pants and underwear. Having freed Maitimo's cock (fully hard) Findekáno wrapped his right hand around the base and gingerly stuck his tongue out to swirl around the head, smearing precome as he went.

At this, Maitimo made high pitched whine in the back of his throat, and when Findekáno took him whole, almost reaching his hand, he couldn't control himself and...

"Oh fuck! Yes!"

Maitimo quickly clapped a hand over his mouth, for all the good that it would do, and stared down in horror at Findekáno, whose blue eyes met his frozen in shock.

"Did someone get hurt over there?" A voice called from over the back wall.

"No. Nothing wrong. Just got a surprising text." Maitimo yelled back like a frightened child.

"Ok, just checking."

With that Maitimo leaned back, a sigh of relief escaping his lips before landing on Findekáno's expression.

"Where do you keep the spare bits?" Findekáno asked a mischievous gleam coming into his eyes.

"On the wall behind me. But wait! Isn't that unsanitary?" Maitimo couldn't keep the concern out the his voice as he perceived quite clearly what his cousin had in mind.

Findekáno grinned down at him as he stood up.

"I would expect that you clean them well. Besides, it's just grass." 

Maitimo heaved a long suffering sigh and at the sight of Findekáno's bulging shorts in front of him, he began to pull them down, releasing Findekáno's cock from the khaki shorts.

Findekáno stifled a gasp as Maitimo began to gently stroke his aching member, and despite the hand on his hips, reached around and grabbed a spare length of bailing twine. Now holding a Nathe (very soft, flexible mouthpiece) bit in one hand and the twine in the other, he carefully extricated himself from Maitimo's grasp.

Maitimo felt a piece of soft plastic nudging at his mouth. He spared a look at Findekáno and instantly opened up, soon he had a mouthful of bit and before he could think about weather or not it had been cleaned recently, felt Findekáno attaching twine to the rings and tying the ends securely behind his head. 

Looking down at his handiwork, Findekáno smiled, kissing Maitimo on the forehead as he lowered himself onto Maitimo's lap. He and Maitimo both reached for their now glistening cocks which they were already rubbing together and reached around both of them until their hands met. They began to stroke up and down in tandem, Findekáno biting down on Maitimo's shoulder to stifle his moans. Maitimo breathing erratically through the bit, he was probably going to leave teeth marks in the soft plastic.

Eventually, feeling himself about to come, Findekáno whispered breathlessly. 

"I'm about to come! Maitimo! Oh gods!Maitimo!"

With that Findekáno latched his mouth onto the side of Maitimo's neck in order to stifle his cry, and came, bursting several jets of hot seed between his and Maitimo's bodies.

Maitimo, upon hearing Findekáno whispering his name, knew that trying to hold on was a lost cause, and let himself fall into oblivion, gasping out his orgasm. He felt his seed mix with Findekáno's on the fronts of their shirts and frankly, couldn't bring himself to care about the mess.

Findekáno returned to himself first, at seeing the half dazed expression on Maitimo's face and his lips pulled taught, he reached up behind his cousin's head and undid the knot that he had made. Maitimo gratefully let the now chewed up bit fall from his mouth and closed his eyes briefly, letting his head fall against Findekáno.

"I'm going just assume that I can throw this bit away, Maitimo?"

"Yeah, whatever."

Findekáno smiled, and slowly disentangling himself, was about to walk outside to a trash can, when he remembered the stains on his shirt.

"Uh, Maitimo, do you have any jackets? My shirt's been ruined. You might want one to."

Maitimo stood up, alert now.

"Let me see... Yes!"

He tossed Findekáno a camouflage hoodie that probably belonged to Tyelkormo, aka several sizes too big.

Findekáno looked at Maitimo, standing jacketless.

"What about you?"

"Oh, forgot about that."

Maitimo then began to rifle through the stuff hanging in the walls and finally pulled out his Shadbelly. Findekáno couldn't help but giggle as Maitimo put the black tailcoat with red vest points and bright silver buttons on over his come-stained shirt.

"Well, it will have to do." Maitimo began, but catching a whiff of himself quickly made a face.

"Is anyone going to be in your camper Finno? I think I need a shower or else I'll stink the barn out."

Findekáno sniffed at himself as well and found the result to be absolutely disgusting.

"No, Turukano went into town with his friends. Irissë is probably with Turko. And father and mother should be helping Arakano. We should probably shower together, you know, save water." 

Findekáno batted his eyelashes but only succeed in blinking several times in a row. 

Maitimo graced him with an angelic smile. 

"Great idea! I'll race you there!"

And with that Maitimo took off across the field, Dubbary's making a racket and tailcoat flying out behind him.

Findekáno gave a shout and raced after the redhead, making a valiant effort not to get tangled in the hoodie.

 

A sandy-haired braider was standing on a small ladder in the stall behind the Fëanorians tack stall and smirked as the two figures finally left when suddenly he was brought back to reality by his client, Lúthien.

"Daeron! You've been looking over the divider since I left to get a smoothie. Have you even done any braids?"

**Author's Note:**

> Eventing is my day job, so naturally a few months ago I started thinking about Noldor being even crazier and galloping horses at solid obsticals and expecting to jump them XD
> 
> (It's all quite silly when you stop and think about it)
> 
> I often post pictures and videos from shows on my Tumblr here:  
> https://www.tumblr.com/blog/thefeanarion
> 
> BTW Rolex is this weekend and Badminton is in two weeks!!!


End file.
